


Guilt

by AgentStannerShipper



Series: Fictober 2019 [23]
Category: Star Trek
Genre: M/M, referenced redshirt deaths, you know the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 22:56:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21364030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: Jim is overworking himself.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: Fictober 2019 [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540126
Comments: 1
Kudos: 53





	Guilt

**Author's Note:**

> For fictober day twenty-three: “You can’t give more than yourself.”

It was well into third shift when Spock came for him. It was something of a role reversal; Jim usually had to drag the Vulcan away from his work, amid calm and logical protests that Vulcans needed less sleep than humans and the work was too important to cease and Jim was being overly emotional by implying that Spock was burning the candle at both ends.

“Captain,” Spock said, and Jim would not admit, even under court martial, that he jumped, his half-lidded eyes flying open as Spock’s hand made contact with his shoulder.

Still, he returned Spock’s warning with one of his own, accompanied by a sharp look that Spock only ever expressed with his eyes. “Commander.”

“It has been forty-nine hours since you last slept. I would be remiss in my duties as first officer if I did not attempt to remove you from your post.”

“I’m fine, Spock.” Jim turned away from him, fixing his gaze on the viewscreen, watching the stars glide by.

“You misunderstand.” Spock circled around the captain’s chair, putting himself in Jim’s eyeline again. “The attempt has already been undertaken.”

Jim narrowed his eyes at Spock, who blinked back unflinchingly. “I consulted with Doctor McCoy-“

“You went to _Bones_?”

Spock gave a short nod. “The doctor and I agreed that you were unlikely to listen to reason.”

Jim slouched back in his chair. “I hate it when you two agree,” he groused. He knew the battle was over, without even giving him a chance to fire a shot. Still, he clung to the arms of his chair, as if the physical contact might increase his likelihood of staying put.

“You are being taken off duty for one full cycle. Providing you sleep, Doctor McCoy will then permit your return. Until that time, his instructions are that you remove yourself from the bridge.”

Spock’s hands were folded behind his back again. There was no sign that he would remove Jim by force. But as Jim looked around the bridge at the officers who were pretending not to notice the exchange, he realized that Spock wouldn’t have to. If Jim threw a fit to be allowed to stay, Spock would likely back off and leave the bridge himself. But if Jim did that, he’d look like a child in the eyes of his crew, demanding to stay up past bedtime. With a sigh, he rose to his feet, turning the con over to the senior officer on duty and heading for the turbolift, Spock falling into step behind him.

Once inside, Jim slumped against the wall, crossing his arms. “I can’t believe you ratted me out to Bones.”

Spock cocked an eyebrow. “Doctor McCoy was already aware of your self-destructive behavior. I merely facilitated its end.”

“Self-destructive,” Jim muttered. “Seems a bit harsh.”

“The deaths of Ensign Davies and Ensign Carraway were not your fault.”

Jim flinched. “I’m the captain. They’re all my fault.” The turbolift stopped, and he got out, Spock still following after. “It’s my job to look after the ship and her crew.”

“You cannot give more than yourself, Jim.”

Jim snorted. “Is that some kind of Vulcan saying?”

“No.” They had reached their quarters, and Spock stopped him before he could enter with a hand on Jim’s arm. He waited until Jim looked at him. “You will never be able to protect everyone, no matter how many shifts you take. And the more you do, the higher the probability you will make a mistake. It is illogical not to attend to your own health, for your own sake, and for the sake of those who depend on you.”

Jim rubbed the back of his neck. Spock’s tone was mild, but the chastisement echoed through it loud and clear. “I know,” he said. “I guess I just…after everything that happened on the mission, I haven’t been sleeping so well.”

“I understand,” Spock said, and nodded.

With a hopeful look, Jim unlocked his quarters and stepped in backwards, offering a hand out to his first officer. “Maybe you could stay with me, and make sure I rest properly?”

Spock inclined his head. “A sound proposal.” And with no hint of a smile, but with his eyes sparkling in answer to Jim’s dawning grin, Spock followed Jim into his quarters. The door shut behind him, and did not open again for hours.


End file.
